


Not a temporary love

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, Cigarettes, Eventual Confession, M/M, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, classmates - Freeform, druggs, from children to adults, from friends to strangers, mental health, misunderstood behaviour, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-21 11:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18141530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Phil was like the sky and the sky was like Phil. Unpredictable. One-of-a-kind. Full of light.Whenever Dan wanted to reach out to him, he couldn’t. With the years crammed in between then and now, it was as good as impossible.The feeling of him though, just like the sky, never really left him. It was always there. There in the back of his mind. There in the vastness of the universe.





	1. Chapter 1

When he first met Phil, he cannot remember anymore.

He was ten and he was interested in girls.

They both attended preparatory course for the entrance exams but they were not in the same class. Only when the teacher took them to the playground, he remembers Phil being there.

He differed from the other kids.

He wore a hat that you could tie below his chin. In his pocket, you would find a tiny water-filled vodka bottle.

His pale nose was freckled and he spoke with a distinctive northern accent that sounded funny to them all, all the time.

He doodled on his exam sheets to relieve stress for which he got lower scores.

He fell asleep in an English lesson once.

He loved the purple colour.

His favourite animal was the hippo.

Dan remembers their school trip to the big city.

He still hears the rhythm of the train wheels and still is able to smell the stuffy fragrance of the coupe.

He recalls the mess of charcoal hair falling into Phil’s eyes so often that it annoyed Dan to the point when he simply reached across and brushed it away from his face.

They rode back home and the sky over the countryside turned black a little bit sooner than Dan would want.

Nobody was around besides them and then Dan heard a voice outside, their teacher’s.

“You think they’re a couple?”

A laughter followed next.

They must have been walking past the coupes, checking up on their students.

Dan never heard the answer to that.

By the time he could, the teachers already moved onto the other coupe where the rest of their class played spin-the-bottle.

When they left and the silence returned, Dan looked over to Phil.

His face reflected in the glass window as he was gazing into the night behind it, following an animal perhaps, unaware of what happened.

Later, on a different trip, it came up again.

It was just after the supper when one of the popular girls twisted in her seat and asked him in front of everyone:

“Dan, do you fancy Phil?”

Dan’s heart skipped a beat.

“No,” he punched out of himself as soon as he could, grimacing to disguise the shock of being asked that.

“Seems to me you would be good together,” she said and before Dan could turn all red, she changed the subject.

That ski trip however, it changed everything.

The assumption that was thrown at him so carelessly, made him wonder, if perhaps, for some insane reason, it could not have been true.

It was as easy as breathing when he finally figured it out.

That was why he felt miserable the whole trip.

That was why he loved sharing his desk with him back in the classroom.

That was why he could talk to him for hours and hours without growing bored, which he so often did with other people.

It pained him to walk up to his class on the following Monday morning and not spot Phil.

How torturous it was to watch the clock shift past eight - eight five, eight ten, eight fifteen.

Still he kept some of his hope but then, to his great disappointment, the clock jumped to eight twenty and he knew that Phil wasn’t coming to school that day.

Phil was incredibly smart, sloppy but smart.

Dan sometimes, out of an unexplainable desire, tidied his desk for him.

He swung back on his chair and turned to face him with determined expression.

He put his pencils back into his pencil case.

He folded his books and notes into a neat pile in the right corner of his desk and ignored the questioning look on his face.

He was pleased with his job and offered a shy smile.

One day, the lesson bored him so he swung in his chair back again and opened up his palm to reveal five of his pencils.

“Which one is your favourite?”

They were all a different shade of purple.

He held them out for him to see, patiently waiting for his pick.

He appreciated the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and the way his eyes focused on him, just him.

"This one."

Dan felt sometimes like a person whose tongue had been cut off.

This overwhelming swirl of emotions he felt in Phil’s presence – he could never tell anyone no matter how hard he wanted to.

He walked to his piano lessons?

He thought of Phil saying this or that.

He vacuumed his bedroom?

He analysed Phil’s smile in silence.

It was why he got out of bed.

It was why he studied so hard every time.

He knew that when the teacher announced their names together, as being the only two people in the whole class room with an A again, his chest would burst with pride.

Dan remembers that day when he realised this wasn’t just a fleeting crush.

“When you live with zero expectations then you will never be disappointed,” Phil said as if it was given. His breath tickled Dan’s cheek.

It was someone else’s birthday party and their entire class was standing outside of a laser game, waiting for the owner to let them in.

“True,” Dan agreed, “but then you will never be surprised at the nice things either. You will simply be indifferent, cold and never experience the feeling of excitement.”

Phil blinked, not expecting Dan to give such an elaborate response.

“Excitement is for simple people. It’s short-lived.” Phil said after a beat of silence.

The way he was leaning against the locked door of the gaming room, eyes scanning him so carefully, Dan realised what it was that he wanted.

He wanted to touch the patch of skin on his stomach that his small black Rolling Stones shirt failed to cover.

He wanted to cross that space between them and press his lips to Phil’s.

But – he didn’t.

Phil was interested in someone else. Her name was Grace.

Once, Dan caught Phil looking.

Dan’s most loved lesson was French because there were only six people signed up. From which only three came regularly. From which two of them were Dan and Phil.

Sometimes, Anthony tired of third-wheeling and it was just the two of them.

That day however, Anthony came. Anthony was an artist, an unbelievably talented one.

Dan opened the window and sat next to it, breathing the fresh air while the short break before French came slowly to an end.


	2. Chapter 2

He listened to music with his headphones stuffed in his ears, daydreaming, when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Phil was indeed starring at Grace's portrait that Anthony left on his desk.

It was like being stabbed in the back.

Everything he suspected about Phil liking Grace seemed to confirm itself in that one moment.

His heart shattered into million pieces, never about to be repaired again.

French lessons took place on Mondays and Wednesdays.

Every single one of these days he anticipated the last two lessons with his heart on fire.

He couldn’t wait to sit so close to Phil that their thighs would brush against each other.

Or to explain him some word Phil didn’t understand.

Dan came to love French and everything it reminded him of.

Once, their teacher gave them an interesting assignment.

They were supposed to pick any painting they could find on the internet and present it to the rest of the French class.

“What's that?” Phil asked, looking up at the projection.

"Monet's water lilies," Dan said with a soft smile.

"You don't like it?" He asked then, noticing his expression.

"I...I don't think I have an opinion," He said, still starring at the mix of tender colours.

"What do you mean?" Dan questioned further, confused by Phil's comment.

"It's just flowers,” Phil said, "they are simple and mundane, nothing special about them."

“I take it you don't like expressionism,” Dan replied with a small chuckle.

As he lied in bed that night and went over their brief exchange, he regretted not defending his choice of painting.

He wished he said to him:

“You know, Phil, there's a beauty in simplicity. There's a beauty in being a plain human being and even more so in admitting it to yourself.”

But didn't because Phil didn't care for people like him.

Sometimes, Dan noticed things none else did.

Things like the shaking of his hands when he was under too much pressure.

Like when he fooled around and was all flirty, making it difficult for Dan to concentrate.

Like when he turned cold and fiddled with his phone the entire time, never once sparing a glance in Dan's direction.

Dan came to the conclusion that, no matter what other people thought, Phil was essentially an angel.

That being said he was an angel whose wings were hidden away. He knew how to be rough and cruel. That way, he thought, he could have never been liable.

He would catch himself waving at the Dan from where the rest of the class was standing, smiling at him with the brightest, most genuine smile and then, as if someone would flip the switch, he would freeze right there on the spot and eventually turn away. That's who Phil was - scared to show any signs of caring

Dan on the other hand, loved showing he cared.

He would point at the falling snow and say: "Beautiful," just to drive Phil mad and call him pathetic.

Very rarely, Phil would forget himself and slip from his well-guarded persona.

One day his sociology teacher's nerves snapped. Dan spoke too quietly again.

She ordered him to turn around, stand up on his chair and slowly articulate the answer to his class, thinking this would eliminate his anxiety.

Dan's face burned with humiliation.

He sat his foot on the edge of his chair and released a shaky breath.

A loud squeak of someone's chair startled everybody.

Phil jumped onto his own chair.

“For god sakes," he yelled out, "What’s taking you so long?”.

He then proceeded to scream Dan's stupid answer out loud, cracking the whole class up.

Dan couldn’t resist his own smile. Even if the joke was at his expense, in that moment, he loved Phil for breaking the awkward silence.

Or they were at the end of their ninth year and as every other ninth year before them, they had to change classes – a strange rule the school had.

They all received small post-it-notes to scribble the names of two classmates on. Names of those who they didn't want to be separated from for the next three years.

From afar Dan overheard the conversation to go something like this:

“Phil, write something down, please” the teacher said in exasperation since everybody else already submitted their choices.

Phil looked torn, his nose adorably scrunched.

"Phil," the teacher groaned again, looking at the clock on the wall, "pick already."

“How am I supposed to do that?” He snapped.

"Quick. Do it quick. Think of your friends. Think of who you like and then write it down."

"I like everyone," Phil said sadly.

Eventually he wrote something down and passed it to the teacher’s impatient hand.

Dan remembers that sentence, thinking that only a very sensitive person would say something like that. Not him, not Phil.

Phil liked everyone.

Dan wanted Phil for himself. He wanted to be the only person he liked but Phil liked everyone.

It’s not as if Dan never tried telling him.

It was another ski trip and Dan agonised over every minute that Phil was locked inside his room back at the hostel, sick with fever.

To Dan the mountains were dull and cold without Phil.

Back at the hostel, he couldn’t bear it any longer.

No sight of Phil at the dinner and no sight of him in the crowd of classmates headed to the swimming pool. He could have been dead in his room for all Dan knew.

Later when he arrived back in his room, he found his roommates exchanging important numbers like the one to the mountain rescue service or to their teacher’s.

He was glad to join them and save a couple of those numbers as well when he noticed Phil’s name in his roommate’s phone.

An all-consuming jealousy came over him out of nowhere.

He figured that if he were to text Phil, his number would show up simply as “unknown” to him thus providing Dan with the much desired anonymity.

_ I hope you will feel better tomorrow. Miss you. _

He sent it without thinking, reading the message over and over in his head.

To his great horror, a few hours later, Phil found out it was him.

Instead of appearing unknown to Phil, his number, somehow, became visible.

Determined to sniff him out, Phil’s best friend PJ eventually matched Dan’s name with the number, immediately calling Tyler, his other best friend, to tell him about it.

Dan felt his blood run cold when the phone rang that night.

“Dan, is it true?” Tyler asked after he hung up with PJ.

Their other two roommates, looked up, eager to watch the scene Dan was about to make.

Dan’s face was pressed into his pillow.

He hated them all. He wanted to go home and never speak to anyone. He even considered changing schools in that moment of shame.

The secret was out. He had nothing to hide.


	3. Chapter 3

He started to tear up.

“Dan?” Tyler repeated, growing impatient with him.

Dan’s brain was on fire. He tried so desperately to disguise himself, to save himself with some blatant lie – anything that would work, he wanted to find it.

Phil had to believe it was just a game, that the sentimental message was nothing but a stupid dare.

He sat up straight. With the heel of his hand, he brushed the tears off his cheeks and somehow mastered the courage to look everyone in the eye.

“Will you all do me a favour?”

Out of necessity he confessed to his roommates.

“So you like Phil?” Tyler asked after Dan owned up to what he had done and why he had done it.

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

“Since we were ten.”

“Why do you like him?”

“I don’t know,” Dan said.

“You don’t know?”

“No.”

“You know that’s gay?”

“Yes.”

They promised not tell another soul.

They promised to stick with his spin-the-bottle lie, to make Phil never suspect what was going on.

And yet, out of fear of being laughed at in front of everybody, Dan skipped the breakfast the next day.

Phil got magically better that day. Although he looked even paler than usual, he got on the ski bus with the rest of them.

Dan was still shaken up from the confessions he made last night and he didn’t want to talk to Phil. This one time, he wished to be left alone by him.

Music blasted in his ears through the headphones and he did not turn around to look at Phil who chose the seat right next to him.

Dan chuckled at the irony of it.

Before, he would have killed for a chance like this.

How amazing it was to sync their breathing, to hear Phil’s heartbeat quicken as the bus ran up the mountain, leaving vast emptiness on both sides of the road.

What if they fell? Slid down the slick road and crushed?

He knew one thing for certain.

In that moment he would dare to reach for Phil’s hand and press it to his own heart, reminding him of what belonged to him unconditionally.

He would lose all his fears in those soft eyes of his. He would die in bliss.

That day in the snow was one of the most beautiful days of his life.

It was as if an invisible wall tore down between them. As if their nine year old selves never grew up.

Phil didn’t leave Dan’s side that day. Every ride with the ski lift he sat right there next to Dan, talking, revealing bits of his life to Dan.

Phil told him about his parents who never forced him to do anything, who never noticed him in the first place.

Dan shared with him that his parents were the opposite of that, always in need of control over his life.

He learned that Phil listened to Muse and that he admired Dan for playing piano so well.

It pleased Dan to hear him say that.

It must have been years since he played it in front of him and the fact he remembered that and other little things, brought the colour back to Dan’s thoughts.

He stopped caring about the night before.

So what if his classmates new? They didn’t matter.

Phil mattered and he didn’t seem to be bothered by what Dan did.

If anything, he warmed up to Dan more.

When they returned to school, Dan caught himself falling for him all over again.

It was an endless stream of French lessons.

Every Monday and Wednesday they left the school together.

The sun was always low and first stars begun to pop up above their heads. Their voices whispered to each other stories about their friends, parents, cousins and other important people in their lives.

If somebody would put a blindfold over Dan’s eyes and ask him to tell Phil by his voice or smell alone, it would be impossible for him to be wrong.

It was the way they stole glances when the other one wasn’t looking.

It was the way Dan looked at Phil whenever something made him smile in the class just to find Phil already looking back, smiling too.

One time in winter they walked to the underground station together and stopped for coffee, well Dan did, Phil waited for him.

Phil’s eyes slipped to the spot where Dan’s lips met the hot liquid inside.

“May I try as well?” He asked, still starring at Dan’s lips.

Dan was surprised by the question. This was something new.

“Sure.”

He handed the cup over. He watched him take a slow sip, lingering with his lips right there where Dan’s had been not that long ago.

He outright moaned.

“You like it that much?” Dan asked him when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Then Phil opened his eyes and met Dan’s startled ones.

He nodded and returned Dan’s coffee, a little smile appearing in the corner of his mouth.

Trains arrived.

Without a word, they both entered them and the doors shut in sync.

Eventually the trains starting moving, each headed to the other end of the city.

Right then as the train drove into the tunnel and Phil vanished out of sight, Dan lifted up his coffee.

He encircled the cup with his fingers, breathing in the delicious smell of it and gently, in one helpless kiss, drank it empty.

 

 


End file.
